


Star Sapphire

by brevitas



Series: Ashes to Ashes [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dragon AU, Fantasy AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being human makes Grantaire feel like he's suffocating so he leaves to stretch his wings; when he comes back he acts the predator he truly is, and Les Amis notice.</p><p>Or in which Enjolras worries about him and Grantaire marks what is his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Sapphire

Les Amis notice the shift in Enjolras and Grantaire's relationship; only a blind man would not, despite the lengths both men go to in the hopes of keeping it secret. Combeferre picks up on it first, of course, but this is to be expected; he's been Enjolras' friend since they were toddlers, and he knows the man inside and out. He watches the way they sit together and smiles under the shadow of his glasses, says nothing but accepts it.

Courfeyrac is second, though honestly his revelation only arrives because of Jehan's noted observations. He's telling Cour one morning that, Isn't it strange how R only sits with Enjolras these days, when Courfeyrac says loudly, "Oh no way."

But Combeferre hears him and grins and Courfeyrac doesn't even need to ask to understand what _that_ expression means, and he groans as he pillows his face in his hands. Jehan curiously touches his shoulder and Courfeyrac grumbles into the table, "I can't believe Enjolras didn't tell us."

The aforementioned couple are unaware of Courfeyrac and Combeferre's knowledge up until the next meeting, when Combeferre asks Grantaire to stay behind a moment to talk to him. It's just cold enough that Grantaire is still wearing his usual myriad of jackets and he fixes the overlapping collars when he says, "Sure--so long as we go outside to do it."

Combeferre permits it and he idles beside him while Grantaire pulls out a cigarette, patting his pockets and screwing his mouth into a frown when he can't find a match. He looks askance at Combeferre but he's removed his glasses and is polishing the lenses with his shirt so Grantaire kindles a spark in the back of his throat and exhales it, the end of the cigarette spitting alive.

"I know you and Enjolras are dating," he remarks, and Grantaire coughs on the smoke in his lungs. Combeferre allows him a moment to collect himself and is smiling when Grantaire recovers and stares at him. "It's rather obvious, unfortunately, as neither of you are very accomplished liars. Courfeyrac has noticed too."

Grantaire licks his lips and tentatively says, "At least it hasn't been for more than a short while?"

Combeferre eloquently arches an eyebrow. "I know that this is not information Enjolras would willingly keep from us, so I'm curious as to why you want to." Grantaire fidgets under his solemn gaze, and Combeferre loosely folds his arms across his chest. "Are you embarrassed of him?"

"What?" Grantaire is startled, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm not embarrassed of him--it's nothing like that. I only asked him to keep it a secret so it wouldn't get uncomfortable for everyone else."

Combeferre hums and watches Grantaire as he takes in a lungful of smoke; it seems to calm him and his nervousness quiets a bit, his anxious hands falling still as he exhales a cloud from his nose. "I don't see why we would be uncomfortable," he remarks, "As all of us know Enjolras prefers men."

Grantaire chews on the end of his cigarette, trying to come up with a working excuse. Finally he settles on a lame, "Well, _I_ didn't know that," and the look Combeferre gives him is worthy of a painting in its honor.

"Then I find no reason not to tell everybody," he says, so as to gauge Grantaire's reaction. He coughs but doesn't complain, and Combeferre goes on to say, "We can let it slip the next meeting."

Grantaire licks his lips and nods. "Alright," he says, dropping the cigarette and grinding out the spark under his heel. "'Til next time, Combeferre."

+++++

He goes to Enjolras' in the middle of the week, three days before the next meeting. Grantaire is itching in his skin; he gets like this sometimes, when being human feels too small. He's scratching at the patch of scales on his hip as he walks, and rubs the waistband of his jeans against them as he climbs the stairs.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras leans over the railing of his patio with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

Their relationship seems to last only a few hours after their meetings, when Grantaire follows Enjolras wherever he leads and hungers to explore further inches of his skin. Enjolras has a tendency to let him go only as far as his hands may slide in public, and Grantaire hasn't pushed it past that (and actually it doesn't bother him much--Grantaire may live forever, and courtships among his species took much longer than this).

He's only visited Enjolras' apartment twice since they became whatever it is they are, and Enjolras looks pleased to see him. "Come up," he calls, and stands. "I'll come to the door."

He disappears inside and Grantaire reaches the top of the staircase, where Enjolras is waiting, leaning in the open doorway. "What are you here for?" He asks, and Grantaire smiles instead of flinches (sometimes he swears that the blonde has no idea of the implications behind what he says, and the cruelest things that slip out of his mouth are nothing but a remark he fails to think through).

"Combeferre and Courfeyrac seem to be under the impression we're dating," he answers, and Enjolras blinks, gestures for him to come inside. They take seats on the couch, where Grantaire stretches out along the cushions with a leisurely groan. He needs to go flying, he thinks, but he doesn't want to leave. Usually he puts it off because he's so handicapped and flying is an exhaustive thing to do, but he knows he idles this time because of the revolutionary sitting to his right.

"I warned you that I didn't think they'd be fooled for long," Enjolras says, clasping his hands between his knees. He looks at Grantaire, who says nothing. "Are you angry with them?"

"No." Grantaire sighs, rubs his teeth with his tongue. They too, ache, and the spark of fire that squats in his gut thirsts to be let out. "I don't mind you telling everybody, just so long as we keep that other thing between us."

Enjolras nods. "That's fine." He looks down at his cupped hands. "Though I must tell you that I feel as though it's rather likely they'll eventually find out about that too."

Grantaire scratches at his knee under his jeans, tries to resist the urge to be snappish. He knows it's only jitters from being cramped in this form for too long, and he takes a deep breath through his nose to rein in his temper. "That's all I came here for." He says, stands with too much force and sways on his feet. "Also, to tell you that I'm going to be gone for a few days."

Enjolras stands too, frowning. "Because Combeferre and Courfeyrac found out? I trust them wholeheartedly, Grantaire, and I believe they can keep--"

"No, not because of that." He waves a hand flippantly. "Because I need to get some air. So, uh, I'll see you what, Wednesday? That's when the meeting is, right?"

Enjolras nods, still frowning, and Grantaire shuffles towards the door. "Alright. See you then." He's gone and the door is yanked shut long before Enjolras can say anything in response, and he can hear Grantaire's hurried footsteps down the stairs. He considers leaning out the window to see him, decides against it, and turns his thoughts to something he _can_ do. There's a march five days from now, and he still needs to design the flyers.

+++++

When Grantaire shows up on Wednesday he is half-wild. All of them can feel it; he strides into the room burning energy and exuding heat, and he douses it with frequent swigs from the whiskey bottle he holds loosely in one hand.

"Morning," he says when everybody turns to stare at him, despite it being nearly three and him being an hour late. He goes to his chair and sits down, and one foot bounces under the table.

Enjolras effortlessly turns them back to the topic at hand but he watches Grantaire while he talks and wonders what's wrong. Grantaire drinks, certainly, but usually only before the meetings and afterward. This behavior is unusual, and Enjolras doesn't trust it.

He closes them up half an hour early, escorting his friends to the door. Grantaire remains seated and when they're out of his earshot Combeferre takes Enjolras' elbow and stops him. They're standing on the front steps, and the cool breeze from the ocean is curling luxuriously around their ankles.

"There's something else about Grantaire, isn't there." It's phrased as question but pronounced as a statement, and Enjolras frowns at his friend. "He was... different tonight." He'd walked in like a predator and Combeferre had felt instincts curdle that he'd never noticed before, a high thrum of adrenaline that had put his heartbeat between his teeth. He'd felt like he was about to be consumed by some ferocious beast and Grantaire had noticed--the whole way to his seat he'd turned to stare at Combeferre, his pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked black.

"Be careful," he says with an unsure frown. "I think he might have taken a drug."

Enjolras nods again and glances over his shoulder. "I should go see to him," he says. Combeferre and him embrace and then the scholar hurries to catch up with Courfeyrac and Jehan, waiting for him on the corner; all three watch as Enjolras disappears back inside and the finality of the cafe's closed door seems ominous.

"Grantaire?" He calls as he steps inside, realizing with a frown that some of the lights have been extinguished. He walks through the dark and turns on the light of the main room where Grantaire waits, sitting on the edge of the table. He doesn't look at ease; he looks like a tiger about to strike, potential danger thrumming in the rigid way he holds himself, coiled and taught.

Enjolras stops. He swallows back an irrational spike of fear and carefully evens his voice before he speaks. "Are you alright?"

Grantaire does not answer. He's staring at the way Enjolras' throat moves so the blonde tries again, struggling to ignore the indecipherable expression Grantaire wears. "What happened while you were gone?"

He waits a moment that stretches into a minute, and he doesn't believe Grantaire is going to speak at all until he does. "It's hard," he says, and Enjolras watches him silently. "To return to masquerading as a human after being my true self. Your bodies are so small, so fragile."

He stands like he did in Enjolras' apartment, with so much energy he nearly topples over. But this time he seamlessly uses the excess to transition into a prowl and he walks a circle around Enjolras, his feet barely striking the ground. "It makes me hungry," he confesses, and Enjolras gets goosebumps up his arms.

He shivers--Grantaire licks his lips.

"I thought about you," he says, and takes to walking again. The strides are unbelievably smooth, like he's wading in water. "I never think about humans when I'm myself. It's alien; I only cared for my riders, you know."

He stops as suddenly as he'd started. "Maybe that's the problem," he says, and he seems a bit more human now; he straightens and even tries on a smile (it doesn't quite fit, and Enjolras' stomach tightens upon seeing the number of teeth it showcases).

"I must go," he says, and turns away, his hands wrapped around each other. Enjolras doesn't know why but he grabs him and says, "Wait."

Grantaire does not give him a chance to explain because he turns fluidly and grabs Enjolras' head, curling his fingers behind his ears and splaying his thumbs across his cheeks. He kisses Enjolras so viciously that his breath is stolen from him and Grantaire backs him roughly into the wall. He tastes of the whiskey he'd finished during the meeting and cigarette smoke and underneath that something even wilder, a flavor he associates with forest fires and chaos.

Grantaire nips at his bottom lip and splits it open and Enjolras gasps into him, startled by the pain. Grantaire smears blood between their mouths with eager kisses and when he finally breaks away his face is painted with gore.

He does not stop there, though Enjolras feels boneless and his mouth aches to the rhythm of his pulse. Grantaire uses his hands to tip his head back and Enjolras is too astounded to stop him, though he might have tried had he known what Grantaire was planning.

His teeth sink like sharpened knives into the tender skin of his throat and Enjolras shouts, dazed by the naked agony. Grantaire holds his head tighter to stop him from thrashing and works his jaw, digging in deeper. Enjolras writhes underneath his palms and when Grantaire finally releases him, slumps back against the wall.

Grantaire steps back, his eyes entirely black, and Enjolras touches his fingertips to the open wound at his neck. He's so bewildered by it that the pain is only static noise and he stares at the blood crowning each finger.

"Sorry," Grantaire breathes, and when he leaves this time Enjolras does not try to catch him.

**Author's Note:**

> requested by Sherrie_H, austrus and ishipeveryone
> 
> title comes from a gorgeous stone that has this lovely star-like paler white marking in the middle of it. I happen to have seen plenty of these in person and every single one of them is stunning in a different way. I liked it because it's like this chapter; Grantaire is a man who holds within him a dragon just as a star sapphire is a gem which holds within it a star
> 
> tumblr is idfaciendumest  
> and hey guys, don't forget to request shit because I will seriously take even longer to write shit if I don't have any input ;) and remember you can request new au's too, or certain things to happen or what ever, just hit me up, friendlies!


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